Mademoiselle D'Artagnan of the Musketeers
by yaoigirl22
Summary: Treville wasn't sure why D'Artagnan was in a dress, and didn't really want to know. He'd just wish Aramis would stop staring at the boy's 'heaving bosom'. Also D'Artagnan's honor and virtue gets defended at some point. NOT SLASH!


**Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's The Musketeers**

**A/N: As you can see, this is a cross-dressing fic, with the victim being the adorable D'Artagnan, THIS IS NOT SLASH! I just want to mess with the boys a bit.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Mademoiselle D'Artagnan of the Musketeers <strong>

The last time either of them had been in Paris, they were hiding from Red Guards and Musketeers alike, holed up in the Court of Miracles for four days with one hand on the trigger and one eye on the door.

"_Ah, memories" _Alban thought with a grin, the grin growing bigger at the thought of what the Cardinal's face must have looked like when the man had been informed that he and his companion got away.

"What are you grinning about?" his companion asked.

"Just thinking about our darling, Basile" Alban said.

Basile raised a brow knowing that his friend only spoke half the truth but left him be, instead he focused on finding the tavern their entail told them about. He found it and the two ducked inside, pausing for a moment at the door, eyes searching.

"There he is" Alban whispered tilting his head to the right.

Basile looked and smiled before going to the barkeep and ordering three cups, with them in hand Basile and Alban went over to the occupied table where the owner was engrossed with his meal.

"Hello darling" Alban purred.

The owner of the table paused before slowly looking up at the two men, eyes widen in disbelief before lips widened into a smile.

"Basile! Alban!"

Some heads turned at sudden cry but turned back to whatever they were doing when they realized it was merely three men hugging each other (one being carefully of the drinks in hand) and not a brawl about to start.

"What are you doing here?" D'Artagnan asked when they released each other and sat back down, "when did you arrive?"

"Last night" Alban answered.

"As for why, we've come to see you of course" Basile said, "we've missed you in Gascony"

"You two returned to Gascony?" D'Artagnan asked with a raised brow, skepticism in his voice.

"Well, not officially" Alban smiled before drinking his wine.

The Gascon shook his head amusement in his eyes, "Still getting into mischief then"

"Only a little" reassured Basile.

D'Artagnan snorted, he knew well 'a little' grow into 'a lot' more often than not with these two, didn't help that he was usually right along with them, their poor mothers could write volumes of their misadventures (as they were affectionately called) as children, while their backsides could tell of how many whippings it endured because of said misadventures (well the ones they got caught at doing).

"So tell me, what really brings you two to Paris?" the young Musketeer then asked as he went back to his meal, vaguely he wondered what was taking his new friends so long.

Alban and Basile looked at each other than back at their friend.

"Oh no, I know that look" D'Artagnan groaned.

"Please darling, for old times' sake" Alban begged.

"Old times usually ends with me in women's clothing and running away in very uncomfortable shoes"

It wasn't the women's clothes or the shoes that bothered him, it was the being fired at while he was wearing said clothing and shoes that did.

Their poor mothers.

"For the last time, I'm sorry" Basile sighed, "I thought for sure the place wasn't guarded"

"And yet it was, and I got shot at" D'Artagnan huffed.

"Well you should be used to it now, with you being a Musketeer and all" Alban then said taking in his friend's uniform.

D'Artagnan felt his chest puff up in pride for just a bit, still high on excitement and disbelief at finally being a Musketeer, despite it being six months.

"How is it? Being a Musketeer?" Basile asked.

"Dangerous at times, sometimes boring, but I'm having fun either way, but you know that already don't you"

Basile grinned wickedly at the pointed look his friend gave, neither confirming nor denying.

"Made any friends to replace us?" Alban then asked.

"_**No one**_ could replace you two lunatics"

"Hm, good answer"

"But I have found three men who I would call friends, brothers even"

Both Alban and Basile raised a brow at the soft look that feel upon their friend's face, of how the eyes shined with fondness and love, the same look that long ago was often directed at them.

"I have a sudden urge to go find them and demand a duel for your honor and virtue" Basile suddenly said, snickering when D'Artagnan glared at him.

At least the fact that his friend's glares were as about a frightening as a puppy hadn't changed.

"Illegal dueling is punishable by hanging" D'Artagnan then said.

"It's only illegal if you get caught" Basile singed.

The Musketeer rolled his eyes, "Don't say I didn't warn you"

"And we have been warn, now about the favor" Alban then said

D'Artagnan groaned, "Alright" he then sighed after enduring a few moments of begging eyes, "let's hear it"

Basile shook his head, "Not here" he then said softly, "outside later"

D'Artagnan gave his friend a look, but nodded.

"Great!" Alban then pushed the younger's bowl towards him, "now finish eating, you're much too thin for my taste, aren't those Musketeers of yours feeding you?"

The Gascon sighed.

Some moments later D'Artagnan was being led into a dark alley.

"You know if you are going to kill me, couldn't you have done it someplace that didn't smell like piss" he said.

"And that is why you wear the dress, only a woman would complain about the smell in the face of death" Alban complained.

D'Artagnan doubted that, but said nothing, instead he looked expectantly at Basile.

"Alright, it's pretty much like this"

And he explained everything, once done he and Alban waited.

"Are you insane!?" the Musketeer said in a harsh whispered, glancing around nervously as though expecting someone to jump out of the shadows and attack them.

"I thought we already established that we were insane" Alban said to Basile.

"You hush" D'Artagnan snapped at him before turning his attention back at Basile, "do you know what would happen if we got caught, we'd be executed on the spot!"

And he really didn't know what Athos would do if he found out.

The Musketeer shivered at the thought.

"We won't get caught" Basile reassured, "we never have"

Which was true enough, when they first began their misadventures as children they got caught a lot, but they were quick to learn from their mistakes (turns out avoiding getting your backside whipped is a great motivation) which helped them as they got older and went beyond sneaking food, toys, pulling pranks and other things. Sure the last time they had been together they got chased and shot at but they didn't get caught, and their faces were not recognized.

"D'Artagnan, please" Alban said taking hold of his hand, "please darling, you're the only one we can trust with this"

"The Musketeers—"

"You just recently finished an assignment and your Caption had given you time off" Basile said.

Not surprised, D'Artagnan stared at his friends who were waiting almost desperately for his answer, giving a small grin he nodded.

"Why not" he then said, "I could go for one more misadventure"

* * *

><p>When he returned to the tavern, his table had been taken, but Aramis, Athos, and Porthos were waiting at another.<p>

"There you are, we were wondering if you had wandered off somewhere" Porthos said when their youngest sat down.

"I told them you probably ran into a lovely mademoiselle, who you rather spend time with, then us old men" said Aramis.

D'Artagnan merely smiled before swiping Porthos bottle of wine, ignoring the other man's annoyed huff, as he listened to Aramis latest story, he debated on whether or not to tell his plans of the mission he just accepted.

Both Basile and Alban were older than him, Basile was five years his senior while Alban was four, and unlike D'Artagnan who had decided to take over the family farm before fate decided he was better suited at being a Musketeer, Basile and Alban had both left Gascony to become explorers, it wasn't long before stories reached him (when he was still in Gascony) about two men, at the right price will do anything you need of them.

Be it delivering messages, theft, investigating, or even assassination.

When asked about it during one of their visits, both confessed to D'Artagnan that it was true, though the assassination part was not (and what a story that had been), he didn't ask why, for he knew the answer to that.

Still he worried.

Basile for one, refused to name their client no matter how D'Artagnan asked, not even Alban would budge. When asked if the client was a threat to the King and France, the two still wouldn't say anything, and while he wanted to believe his friends weren't traitors…..

"D'Artagnan?"

"Hm?"

The younger blinked out of thoughts to discover his friends were giving him curious looks.

"Something on your mind my friend?" Aramis asked.

"No" the Gascon answered with a smile, before taking Athos bottle of wine and adding to his other stolen bottle, gaining a glare from his mentor and snickers from Aramis and Porthos.

"I'd give that back" Aramis advised when Athos's glare darken, "he doesn't look happy"

"Porthos will protect me" D'Artagnan said leaning against the bigger man.

"Only if he doesn't start shooting" said Porthos as he recuses his kidnapped bottle.

"You'd let him shot me?" the young Musketeer gasp in mock horror.

"Don't worry, we'll make sure the Caption says nice things at your funeral" Aramis said.

D'Artagnan turned wide-eyes back to Athos, "You wouldn't really shoot me over a bottle of wine, would Athos?" he asked softly.

"Yes" came the answer.

D'Artagnan pouted but gave the bottle back, and as he attention was taken by Porthos who asked how his mission with two other Musketeers went (the three older men had not been pleased when they learned that their youngest had been assigned a mission with another group that wasn't them and was gone for more days than expected), the young Musketeer made a decision.

He'd trust his old friends, just like he trusts his new ones.

* * *

><p>The house was on the outskirts of the city, it was simple, a quick glance then just as quickly dismissed.<p>

"Welcome to our humble home" Athos bowed when he opened the door.

"And whose home is this?" D'Artagnan asked as he entered.

"A friend of Basile's, he's letting us use it for tonight"

D'Artagnan hummed as he entered what looked like the kitchen, it had a table.

"You're late" Basile said.

"Do you know how hard it is to sneak out of a Garrison of Musketeers?" the Gascon grumbled, "especially if I'm not going to a Traven or Brothel"

"Point taken" Basile said, "well you're clothing are in the room down the hall, first door to your right"

D'Artagnan nodded and made his way there, "No peeking!" he called over his shoulder.

"Why must you ruin all my fun Darling!"

When he entered the room D'Artagnan blinked at the sight of the copper tube, he wondered where in the world his friends got one before dismissing it, they were on limited time. Finding his clothing on the bed in the corner (taking note that there was no windows), he went over to the table where a mirror and shaving kit was waiting.

He started with his face, as he cut off his facial hair he mourned it, it had taken months to finally gain some hair on his face (even if Porthos and Aramis teased him about his peach fuzz of a mustache). After he was done he took off his shirt and got to work on his underarms and chest.

He had learned early (and one memorable misadventure that involved a goose, colored wigs and a nude Basile) on it was best to be completely hairless as possibly.

Once freshly shaven, he got into the tube, today's dirt washing off of him leaving him feeling fresh and clean. He dried himself off with a surprisingly soft towel before going to the bed, he put on his small cloths before picking up the corset, he made a face at the thing before glancing at the other items that would allow him the illusion of breasts.

He hated this part.

"Basile!" he then yelled loudly.

Some moments later Basile opened the door, the man was half dressed

"Why does he always call you!?" came Alban's voice from the kitchen.

"Because I know how to keep my hands to myself!" the oldest answered back before closing the door, "ready" he then said to D'Artagnan.

The younger nodded.

After stuffing his 'breasts', D'Artagnan grabbed hold of the table, Basile grabbed the two ties and pulled.

"_I really really hate this" _the Musketeers thought with a grunt.

Once it the corset was pulled properly tight, it was time for the dress. The dress was a dark red with a neckline that was high enough not to show cleavage and was sleeveless, after helping with the dress his friend left, D'Artagnan turned his attention back to the bed where a long wavy dark colored wig was waiting. Once the wig was properly on, the young Musketeer went back to the table, where the face paints were waiting.

Learning to find the right paints for his skin color and how much to apply didn't take long to learn, of course he had the thanks of the local prostitutes in Gascony for that.

Finally after the jewelry and shoes that were thankfully comfortable and the matching red shawl, he looked at himself in the mirror on the wall. When he was younger and dressed this way no one thought he was anything but a young beautiful woman, he was older now and had worried he would no longer be able to pull of the disguise.

Turns out he was wrong to worry.

Smiling a little, D'Artagnan left the room and made his way to the kitchen.

"Well?"

Both men stared at the youngest, neither moving nor saying a word, for a moment D'Artagnan feared that perhaps he had been wrong in assuming, then Alban grinned.

"You're gorgeous" he purred.

Basile nodded in agreement, D'Artagnan gave smile before looking over his two partners in crime, they too were dressed elegantly, and looked very handsome indeed.

"You two looked presentable" he teased, as he took the red and white mask Basile handed to him.

Alban pouted while Basile chuckled before both older men held out their arms towards him.

"Shall we then Milady?" Alban said.

Taking both arms, all three headed out the door.

"…Where did you get a carriage?"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Review Please!<em>**

**_Also, if you're wondering what D'Artagnan's mask looks like here : www . justposhmasks product / 183 / Small _ Masquerade _ Masks _ - _ Masquerade _ Masks _ for _ Kids _ - _ Piccolina _ Silver /_**

**_And here's his dress, just imgine it with a v-shaped high neck line and a red silk shawl: www . pinterest pin / 370280400585116445 /_**


End file.
